Lord BELMOUR. Will you not then vouchsafe one glance of pity?
Is there no ray of hope; no room for pardon?
O, inexorable!

Mrs. ANDREWS. Protect me, heav'n! [Aside]
Sir, at your peril, speak to me again.

Lord BELMOUR. Teach, teach me first, how this devoted heart,
Shall gain its freedom, or forget its fondness.
That voice conveys such rapture to my soul,
That I would hear it, though 'twere sure perdition.

Mrs. ANDREWS. These hackney'd phrases, use to those they suit
To me, they are accumulated insults. [He rises.]

Lord BELMOUR. Forego such thoughts; I, nothing meant but honour.
My wife and I, having resolv'd to sunder,
(For without love we met, and so have liv'd,)
Hope ev'ry moment our divorce for ever;
When both may wed again, as each best likes;
A practice now full easily accomplish'd.
Then, that your husband's fate is near its period,
'Tis said, some recent symptoms have pronounc'd
Wherefore, it soon may be my happy lot,
To make thee partner of my rank and fortune,
As thou'rt already empress of my heart.
--Accept then, I beseech thee, these small tokens. [He gives her
the papers, which she, in great confusion, insensibly takes.]
And now with that sweet breath, surpassing far
The spicy perfume of the budding rose,